Make Believe

Thirty Eight.

He should have been home from school that night. He wasn't.

We were too selfish to notice, staying up late and celebrating our new relationship. We chatted and kissed and watched movies. We were happy.

He wasn't.

It was the next morning that we started to get worried. Finn was sitting at the kitchen table when I woke up, his head in his hands. "Ross won't answer his phone." He said. "And he's not at any of his friend's houses."

"Shit." I rubbed my head. "Call Lia. He might be barking up that tree again."

"Already have. He's not there."

I frowned at him. "There must be some stupid explanation for this... He's probably been at a party."

"All night?" Finn looked at me.

"Come on. We've been to some parties like that. It's probably fine." I wasn't too sure. Perhaps I was trying to reassure myself as well as Finn. 

"But we didn't get any texts from him." Finn stood up. "He always shows off if he's going out to a friend's house."

"Well... Where else would he be?" I smiled at him. "Come on, cheer up. I know you're the big brother and essentially his guardian, but he's fine. He's probably just drunk at someone's house or staying with a girl."

"But even those two things are bad!" Finn exclaimed. "He's fifteen! That stuff shouldn't be going on when you're fifteen! He hangs out with people much older than him. I don't like it."

"Finn, babe. He hangs out with us. And he's nearly sixteen." I pointed out.

"I'm worried about him." Finn picked up his phone. "Something's wrong. I'm going to report him as missing."

I took a deep breath. "Okay. If that's what you feel is necessary I'll let you make that choice." I watched him dial the number. "But don't blame me when he comes back in an hour or so confused to why there are police searching for him."

Listening to him make the phone call was awful. His voice was cracking slightly as he struggled to keep his composure. The woman on the other end of the phone was quite unemotional and monotone. "Sorry, how old is the boy?" She asked.

"He's fifteen. Sixteen in a week or so." Finn explained shakily.

"Ah!" The woman said. "That age, huh? He's probably a run away. I wouldn't worry, he'll be back when he's hungry."

"You think?" Finn asked.

"Yes, there was another runaway in your area last night, too. A girl, about the same age. It's very common for teenagers of that age group to just leave home for a bit on their own in a bit of a power struggle." The woman reassured him.

"Okay. What do I do about it?" Finn looked at me. "What can we do?"

The lady on the phone sighed. "Wait. He'll be back."

"Are you sure?" Finn certainly didn't sound sure.

"I'm sure. He'll be back this evening, most likely." She said.

He wasn't.